BlueEyed Basilisk
by ProfessorMoony01
Summary: "/Don't look into his eyes. Don't look into his eyes. Don't look into his eyes. He's like a blue-eyed basilisk! It'll KILLLL YOU!/ Hermione resorts to desperate measures to capture Ron's heart. Will it work? HG/RW


_Hey! First Ron/Hermione fic! :D Hope it's not crap :D Enjoy it! Oh, and HERMIONE IS A BIT BONKERS IN THIS! I love bonkers Hermione - she's awesome! :D Enjoy, and please remember to review! :D _

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Hermione hated how she had to do _all_ the work. Really, _really _hated it. Why couldn't she fall in love with a guy who actually had a brain hidden in that big head somewhere? It was _infuriating_.

It was the middle of the summer term; our lovely Gryffindor prefect was currently situated in the cosy common room – and that's where this amusing little story starts.

This particular room, at this particular time, was also the temporary home to a certain _couple _(if you could really call them that) – known _affectionately _as Won-Won and Lav-Lav.

Yeauch.

Oh, but Hermione wasn't going to give up that easy. Ooh-ho no! If Ron really thought that _Lavender _was in any way _better _than Hermione, well then, he had better be prepared for a _serious _arse-kicking – 'cause she most _certainly_ was going to KICK. SOME. ARSE.

Her first instrument with which to wreak terror upon one Ronald Weasley… was a poem.

Can you see now? Can you see just _how much _she _loved _this boy? Hermione was writing _poems _for him! She HATED those disgustingly trashy, smushy pieces of doggy poop that people wrote to each other on special occasions! They were a complete waste of parchment!

Sighing and fighting the urge not to rip her parchment into itty-bitty pieces of inky hell, Hermione quickly quilled out the last line with a flourish. "Finally," she muttered to her herself, rubbing her forehead and in the process covering her face with splodges of ink.

The sudden, soft voice in her ear made up jump about a foot in the air, her heart beating double time. "Hey 'Mione, what you doing?"

_Don't look into his eyes. Don't look into his eyes. Don't look into his eyes. He's like a blue-eyed basilisk! It'll KILLLL YOU!_

Hermione leaned forward slightly to cover parchment bearing her words of love and adoration. "Ahem… nothing…"

"'Mioneeeeeee," Ron whined, batting his ginger eyelashes at his best friend. "Tell me!"

"No!"

"Pretty pleaseee!"

Hermione looked up into his eyes, feeling as though someone had forcefully grabbed her neck and pushed it upwards – stupid body, why the hell couldn't it listen to her brain for once?

_Now you've done it you idiot girl! You've looked into his eyes! YOU'RE GOING TO DIE._

"Fine," the bushy haired girl huffed, "I've written a… poem…"

Ron looked nonplussed. "… Please don't tell me this is your new campaign for Spew?"

"It's S.P.E.W, Ronald!" Hermione flared up immediately, remembering once again why someone else – _anyone else – _would have been so much better for her. The boy was utterly and completely _maddening._ "And no, actually, it isn't! Now do you wanna listen to it or not?"

_Why did you ask him if he wanted to listen to it? You should have said 'yes' and he would have run away from your Spew rubbish straight away! Bleaugh! And they call you the Brightest Witch of Your Age! Bullshit._

"Fine, fine…" the redhead replied, sighing in resignation before plopping himself heavily on the chair next to her.

_Please, Ron, please, do curb your enthusiasm._

Taking a deep breath, Hermione began to read in a shaky, slightly high-pitched voice – well, come _on_, she _was _reading a poem full of words of love and adoration _to the person she loved and adored. _You seriously can't blame her. And if you do, you're heartless.

"_He eats so much food,  
__It puts me in a right foul mood,_

_He has no tact at all,  
__Yet I can't help but fall,_

_He's a master at chess,  
__But not at much else,_

_I think I've been shot by Cupid,  
__And all I can say is: I'm with stupid."_

Ron burst into peals of laughter once Hermione had finished, falling out of his chair and rolling around on the floor hysterically. "Hermione, that's brilliant!"

"Thanks!" The goofy, idiot smile on her face was _not _because her beloved at just complemented her. Nope, not at all. A large bubble of happiness seemed to swell in her chest and she determinedly quashed her urge to jump up and down in excitement.

_Maybe he'll finally dump Lavender! Maybe he'll ask me out! Maybe he'll – _

"Hehe, who's it for by the way?"

The bubble burst.

_Or __maybe __he'll completely ruin your day as he usually does because of his BLOODY lack of BRAIN CELLS!_

Ron continued, unaware of the scream of frustration building up in Hermione's throat, "And just _how_ good is he at Chess? I bet _I_ could beat that bugger…"

"AAAAARGH!"

Ron was stunned into silence, watching wide eyed as Hermione whipped out her wand, chest heaving as she thought of the most painful hex she knew. The fact that the wand was pointing at him seemed to finally kick in, and Ron leapt up and _sprinted _from the common room, yelling about mad prefects and their bloody poems.

Hermione gave chase, an evil smile curling her lips that even _Voldemort _would be afraid of.

Everyone else in the common didn't even blink an eye as the Fat Lady clicked shut over the portrait hole – after all, a terrified Ron running away screaming from an angry Hermione wasn't exactly anything new.

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_Hope you enjoyed! _

_REVIEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW :D_

_:) _


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